


Intimacy

by Trin303



Series: Kinktober 2020 [28]
Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Cockwarming, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, fluff disguised as porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27264256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trin303/pseuds/Trin303
Summary: Kinktober 2020Prompt: cockwarming
Relationships: Helen Wick/John Wick
Series: Kinktober 2020 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962415
Kudos: 30





	Intimacy

Helen had a habit of defying every expectation that John had for her. She watched him, almost amused, as he built up in his head a picture of who she was and then Helen delighted in watching it crumble around him.

“I’m not an angel.” She felt the need to remind him every so often.

It didn’t help. John continued to look at her like some kind of godly creature. Too good and pure for the dark world that they lived in.

And she was kind and caring and a hundred other wonderful things. But she was also human.

The first thing that threw John was that cute little mouth ready to drop the f-bomb like there was no tomorrow. She had no issue with profanity and used colorful language far more often than he did. 

The second thing that threw John was just how  _ fierce  _ she could be. He recognized her caring instincts early on. She was a social worker. She lived to take care of others, to help others. But god help you if you were the one threatening anyone under her charge. 

Poor Santino had found out the hard way just how fierce Helen could be when he made one misplaced comment at John’s expense. In an instant, John found himself having to pick her up and remove her entirely from the situation before she got herself into more trouble than she would know what to do.

Then there was her sex drive.

John hadn’t really known what to expect when they started their sexual relationship but Helen continued to surprise him. With her drive, her intensity. With just how utterly  _ wild _ she could become under the right circumstances. 

Nightly bedroom escapades that left them both exhausted and content.

Helen used sex as an outlet for everything.

Good day at work? Let’s fuck to celebrate.

Awful day at work? Let’s fuck to forget.

I’m pissed. Let’s fuck till I’m not angry anymore.

I’m sad. Let’s fuck until I feel better.

It surprised John, although it didn’t shake Helen in the least bit, when he was the one who required a bit more intimacy.

She’d tried to do some psycho-education with him, putting his past in terms of “lack of stability'' and “complex trauma”. It was all the same to John, though. And there was nothing he could do to change it, so he accepted it for what it was.

And Helen accepted him. And all the baggage that came with Jardani Jovonovich.

She had a six sense about him. When to give him love and affection and when to give him love and space. He leaned towards the former more often than not and she never once complained or showed any sign of annoyance when John felt himself becoming needy.

So when John got home, late one night, covered in blood and grime, she assessed him from the bed, where she was reading. She took note of his lack of injuries but also his stance. The exhaustion in his eyes, a bit of defeat weighing down on his shoulders.

She didn’t ask. He’d tell her when, or if, he was ready.

Instead, she said, “I love you.”

And John said it back before disappearing to the shower.

Nearly an hour later, when he had scrubbed himself until he felt clean again, she was still up waiting for him. Her eyes were heavy but she powered through it.

He climbed into bed next to her and Helen looked over, “What do you need?”

John hesitated, as he always did. The instinct to just keep his mouth shut and not voice his wants, his needs aloud was still prevalent. But Helen was patient and she would wait, all night if she had to, until he was ready to voice it.

“Can you hold me?” He asked and Helen nodded, placing her glasses on her bedside table before scooting down to lay on the bed. She opened the blankets and John crawled on top of her. 

He was naked, though she was still wearing one of his shirts and underwear.

He pushed the shirt up, baring her stomach slowly and Helen pulled it up and over her head the rest of the way before kicking off her underwear.

She took John’s hand and tugged him toward her.

He climbed atop her, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips as he reached down between them, to the apex of her thighs. She was damp but not entirely wet.

John kissed her again, just a little bit deeper as his fingers circled and teased her clit. When she was ready to take him, she pulled back slightly and looked up at John with a small nod.

Carefully, he maneuvered his length to her warm entrance and carefully slipped inside, slowly. Until he was buried inside of her completely, encased in her wet heat.

Gently, he lowered himself down on top of her and closed his eyes. Helen stroked his hair lovingly, whispering to him all the sweet truths he had longed to hear as a boy.

He was safe.

He was loved.

And everything was going to be okay.

Sometimes, it wasn’t about sex.

Sometimes, it was just about them.


End file.
